Page 179 of Redeemed

I’m so focused on the branch that I don’t notice the broad, tall man running toward me until it’s to late. I fly straight into him. Large hands grip my arms and yank me off the path. All I see is a flash of light brown hair and honey-colored eyes.

My panic dissolves.

“Lucas,” I gasp. “How did you get here so fast?!”

His thumb runs across my cheek, the motion so gentle compared to the way he just grabbed me. “Did you really think I’d let you out of my sight for a single second?”

Oh.

“Luc—”

But he’s already shoving me behind him, the tender moment gone in a flash. I peer around him to see Isaiah isright there,barely a yard away from us.

“Who the hell are you?” Isaiah spits out.

“The one who’ll snap your neck before I ever let you lay a hand on Haven again.”

“Her name is Heaven,” Isaiah snaps.

“Not according to her.”

My heart squeezes at how smoothly Lucas brushes that off. I never told him my real name—never told any of them.

“That’s because she’s nothing more than a worthless, rebellious liar. Give her to me.”

Lucas laughs. “Why the hell do you think I’d do that?”

“Because she’s my wife, and she needs to come back home.”

Thatcatches Lucas off guard. He turns to look at me, confusion warring with hurt on his face. “What?”

“Lucas, no—”

Isaiah uses Lucas’s moment of distraction to lunge for him. Lucas whips back around just in time to jump back, but the knife in Isaiah’s hand still cuts through the sleeve of Lucas’s sweatshirt.

“Isaiah, stop,” I shout, but he doesn’t listen.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I watch Lucas dodge another stab from Isaiah. I’ve seen him fight before. He normally goes harder than this, jumps onto the offensive instead of the defensive. He’s holding himself back.

It takes a moment for me to realize it’s because he can’t get hurt. Not when he doesn’t have backup. Because thenI’llget hurt.

Darting onto the path, I grab the fallen branch and grip it hard. It’s not as heavy as I thought, but it feels sturdy enough. I creep toward the fight. If I’m going to do this, then I need to stay out of Lucas’s way—and out of the path of Isaiah’s knife.

“Haven, stay back,” Lucas shouts.

“I don’t want him to hurt you!”

Footsteps sound the way we came. Colton and Xander have just entered the woods and are sprinting up the path toward us. I see the same relief I’m feeling in Lucas’s eyes, and then he lunges for Isaiah, tackling him to the ground.

The fall stuns Isaiah, which I think was Lucas’s goal, but Isaiah is still gripping the knife. He has his free arm wrapped around Lucas’s neck in a hold that I’m assuming is to keep him in place. And, I realize frantically, to make it harder for Lucas to disarm him.

My next move is driven by pure panic. I don’t have time to think. Lucas agreed to protect me, but I don’t want him to get hurt doing it. That was never my intention.

As Isaiah raises his knife, I close the space between us and swing at his hand with all my might. The branch knocks the knife free, and Isaiah cries out in pain.

Just then, Colton and Xander skid to a stop in front of us, but before they can move in to help, Lucas manages to overpower Isaiah. All I see is a blur of movement, and in a split second, Lucas has gotten his own knife from his pocket.

And he’s holding it against my husband’s throat.

---